Online internet courses by Call of the Page

Are you interested in a Call of the Page course? We run courses on haiku (beginner and intermediate, and advanced). We also run workshops and courses on tanka; tanka stories/prose; haibun; shahai; and other genres.

Please email us at: admin@callofthepage.org
We will let you know more about these courses.

Call of the Page (Alan & Karen)

Sunday, March 09, 2014

Negative space in haiku: Writing Poetry: the haiku way




Please see an extract from my 

interview by the Sonic Boom magazine further down the page.





Negative space in haiku: 
is an article in progress for my book Writing Poetry: the haiku way.

Often when we talk to each other we don't feel the need to spell everything out; we have so many connections in common after all. It's partly the same with haiku, carrying that over is an effective device. Alan Summers

"There is always the verbal equivalent of negative space in good haiku…"  Violette Rose-Jones

Here’s one from Jean Jorgensen from The Touch of a Moth: 35th Annual Haiku Canada Members' Anthology, page 115

he ties one hole
to another – fisherman
mending his nets

The Touch of a Moth: 35th Annual Haiku Canada Members' Anthology  The Touch of a Moth Edited by Claudia Coutu Radmore and Marco Fraticelli

Negative space needn't always be just the use of white space in breaking up the visible text.  It can be the way that a haiku uses its two parts to approach a subject by not directly mentioning it.

Haiku need not name the subject/topic directly. 

Stella Pierides has this to say about negative space in haiku:

My own favorite aspect of negative space is the 'hole' / empty space in the middle of the poem. Whatever form it takes, incl. punctuation and empty space(s), it gives the reader space through which to enter the poem and create meaning. You may be interested in Moore's and Hepworth's 'holes' in sculptures, also Fontana's 'holes', slashes' and 'gushes' in his paintings and sculpture (his Spatialism) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucio_Fontana

Although I think that all haiku utilizing a good enough cut would serve as examples, here are some of my haiku linked to themes of absence, cut, identity etc.
Stella Pierides



granny's cushion -
pulling the darkness out
pin by pin


Stella Pierides
In the Garden of Absence, Neusaess: Fruit Dove Press, 2012




between folding
and unfolding -
a dove


Stella Pierides
Publication credit: Bottle Rockets #26, February 2012



Leaving things out is a potent device in haiku. Alan Summers



   buddleia
the rain opening
                and closing its proboscis

Alan Summers
Blithe Spirit (Journal of the British Haiku Society) Vol. 27 no. 1 (February 2017) From the Strange Bed haibun



fence painting
a wish to be the green
of dragons

Alan Summers
brass bell: a haiku journal (May 2017)




candlemas
little fingers pulling
the wishbone


Alan Summers
brass bell: a haiku journal (April 2017)





homebound train 
I correct 
my wife's eyebrow

Alan Summers
low sky ed. Eric Burke
Right Hand Pointing Issue 107





those who stop —
ducks taking colour
from the river

Alan Summers
brass bell: a haiku journal curated by Zee Zahava (January 2017)





we shift and turn 
the migrating clocks 
fallen leaves 

Alan Summers
low sky ed. Eric Burke
Right Hand Pointing Issue 107



the buddleia
and the butterfly...
vanishing stars

Alan Summers
Presence #57



the darkness
seeps out of leaves
resting spiders

Alan Summers
NHK World's NHK Haiku Masters photo prompt (November 2016)





Auvers-sur-Oise
the crows changing
into their colours

Alan Summers 






house clearance
room by room by room
my mother disappears

Alan Summers
Award credits: Winner Touchstone Award
Published: Blithe Spirit 26.1 (March 2016) Journal of The British Haiku Society.

Recipient of a Touchstone Individual Poem Award for 2016

“When I read haiku, I’m looking for an unexpected view on the well-known. I’m curious to learn about an open secret (after Robert Spiess). 

I’m looking for a simple (but not banal) and lucid language that expresses something extraordinary within the ordinary, something which I never read before in that way as well as something that is of beauty beyond time. 

‘house clearance’ represents the pure power of haiku. 

Layers of meaning ascending from deeper layers of the mind (‘room by room by room’) in relation to existential truth (‘my mother disappears’). 

Perhaps one finds a human contradiction: memories can only get preserved vividly after “clearance.”

“An emotional and vivid image that brings sadness at first reading while effectively pointing out that taking away the physical doesn’t remove the memory.”

Panel of Judges: Gary Hotham, Ron Moss, Renee Owen, Michele Root-Bernstein, Dietmar Tauchner and Diane Wakoski





Ganesha's moon
the cabbie’s last customer
smells of mint tea

http://lifeinmovingvehicle.blogspot.co.uk/2008/06/ganesha.html

Alan Summers
brass bell: a haiku journal (November 2014); Miriam’s Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond (Miriam Sagan's blog 2015



Forgotten rain
the wedding ring left
in a doll’s house

Alan Summers
Asahi Shimbun (Japan, 2014)

Alan Summers:
Should everything be spelt out and dictated to a reader, or should we delight that a reader will throw themselves into the poem so much they add whatever they consider to be missing information between the two parts of the tiny haiku poem?

I'm a haiku writer who feels honoured if a reader adds their own life experiences to a poem of mine, that maybe only shows half a story, in order for it to be completed by someone else.


Complementary to negative space is my white echoes and implication article where I talk about white paintings amongst other things: 



We had the honour and good fortune to interview Alan Summers, a Japan Times award- winning writer and one of my foremost mentors, who talks about his work, poetry, art, and most importantly, discusses the haikai forms and haiku in particular, the latter of which he dubs as “the stiletto of poetry”.
Shloka Shankar
(Poetry, Fiction & Art) Founder/Chief Editor
Sonic Boom Issue Seven December 2016

Sonic Boom editor: You speak extensively of white spaces in haiku and poetry. How does a poet welcome these vital elements into her/his consciousness? How does it seep into us? 

Alan Summers:
As a reader,  I have to say I am one who loves both types of haiku, the ones you get in an instant (yet still resonate); and ones that continue to make me grow as a reader. Writing is about growth, in my opinion, and a good many writers have readers (be it poetry; non-fiction; or fiction etc…) who want to grow alongside the writer. Discovery is a vital component in any discipline, and I am always thrilled when I discover something new, or something new about something familiar.

I like haiku poets who report back from the front line whether the news is good or devastating as it’s vital to make it available. If a writer fails to be a discoverer than I see the initial author (the poet) and the interpreters (readers) are both left out of the loop. There has to be a blank canvas, a large white space, and however gently we write around it, it’s forged as if blade-smiths in words, and none more-so than the incredibly brief utterance of a haiku: The stiletto of poetry.

I don’t think the reader will always pick up our intention, but sometimes that is really not an issue as long as they can run with their own interpretation(s). There has to be white space, like a mountain pass, so that the reader becomes their own intrepid explorer, drafting a map within their own individuality. White space isn’t just where there appears to be no words, it’s building a bridge to the reader. It’s the reader’s inner blank canvas that we want to connect, their own white space. As Ma can be called an experiential place, I see it as an attempt to connect with fellow humans, and although I am the original author, it’s reader by reader for me, it’s them that let’s the poem become a greater thing.

Travel writer Pico Iyer talks about taking time to explore meaning through stillness in his TED Talk The Art of Stillness, while Japanese architect Kengo Kuma puts it this way: “We are aiming to create an architecture of experience that dissolves the boundaries between the material and the immaterial.” 

That’s what white space is to me: Building bridges, invisible ones but nevertheless as strong as the physical manifestations across land masses. And there’s a place along that bridge that’s a viewing platform, where we all rest and repose. That word repose means two things to me, it’s both a state of restfulness, the opposite of restlessness, and it also means to drop our society-facing mask(s), to pull away from all of that, and to leave behind all those numerous poses associated with each public mask.

I hope each reader will always be that second verse to my poem:

Just like a character in a novel that takes charge, it’s not the author, but a haiku that takes charge, and the reader will run with that, we can trust them.  Welcome to the Front, nothing is easy or what it seems, and we don’t always know how it works, it’s just falling backwards with someone or something hopefully always there to catch us at that required moment. We are born as blank canvas, other than DNA that we carry as a conduit from a line of past generations.  Although we pick up life lessons, I feel we should continue to be as open, as that virgin canvas when we were so young.   

For me haiku are first and foremost ‘white paintings’ and I don’t just mean starting from a blank piece of paper or computer screen, but that the commenced and finished poem has to be like a White Painting such as those created by the artist Robert Rauschenberg: https://www.sfmoma.org/artwork/98.308.A-C 

‘The White Paintings were airports for the lights, shadows, and particles…receptive surfaces that respond to the world around them.’
– John Cage about the painter Robert Rauschenberg (1961)

When composer John Cage first saw Rauschenberg’s White Paintings it inspired him to fully explore silence. He credited the White Paintings to leading to his famous piece 4’33’’, (four minutes and thirty-three seconds) where no sound is played by the performing musicians: It’s the (background) undertones of the musical piece that are supplied and accidentally performed by each audience member that comes to witness. It’s via shuffling in seats, sniffling, coughing, or cellphone texts or ringtones. Walter Hopps stated that John Cage said those White Paintings by Robert Rauschenberg were “landing strips for little motes that we don’t see…and for shadows.” That power of the White Paintings painted entirely in white, reflect the chance effects of changes in the light and shadows. I believe we are all made up of motes, ever changing but unique too, just particles in the wider universe.


snowing
through the blizzard
particles of me


Alan Summers
Winner, The Haiku Calendar Competition 2011 (Snapshot Press)
Publications credits: The Haiku Calendar 2012 (Snapshot Press); Cornell University, Mann Library virtual poet-in-residence (USA 2013); THF Per Diem Archive: April 2014, “Transcendence" 
Anthology credits: The Humours of Haiku ISBN 978-0-9565725-4-7 (Iron Press 2012); Faces and Place ed. Don Baird (The Little Buddha Press 2015); naad anunaad: an anthology of contemporary international haiku ed. Shloka Shankar, Sanjuktaa Asopa, Kala Ramesh (India, 2016)



I also see white space as that long time of doing and being nothing. 

There’s a spoof of W.H. Auden’s quote of “Poetry makes nothing happen” where the quote is turned on its head with: “Nothing makes poetry happen.” 

I am also a subscriber to what Maria Popova states: 
“Build pockets of stillness into your life. The best ideas come to us when we stop actively trying to coax the muse into manifesting and let the fragments of experience float around our unconscious mind in order to click into new combinations. Without this essential stage of unconscious processing, the entire flow of the creative process is broken.”

FULL INTERVIEW:

.

Tuesday, March 04, 2014

Rooster Moans and The Land of the Rising Haibun - The Crow Star - combining haiku, prose, prose poetry


Rooster Moans image.

Example of a haibun (prose with haiku)



The Crow Star



fading last note
a torresian crow calls out
a star-scarred sky


 now…
              so, so, so black    this black sky of stars more bright than I've ever seen
   some seem to shift and move    vibrate    to suggest something more
        last sighting on this travel of Jupiter above Venus


the southern cross
my woodsmoke embers
spiral upwards


quiet and dark    then a rustle reminds me of the Dreamtime Dingo
white and feral    imagination lends fear to a night that leers at me


woodfire
          flickering with light
the shadows of horses


it's cold now 3a.m. brittle cutting cold
the moon's no longer full
this brutal simplicity of a night
deep as a raven’s compassion

a susurrus of moths
around fire that flickers on

a thinning trail
to the stars
woodsmoke & embers

an early hours crow
I invoke another prayer
to its god and mine


I see a lightening from dark to metal grey       a quickening between trees
that becomes a hurt violet   into brush strokes   into morning



red-rimmed sunrise
     the trees rekindle fire
 through a blur of blue




Haibun by Alan Summers (this version March 2014)

Versions published:

Paper Wasp, Queensland, 1997; Azami haiku journal, Osaka, Japan 1998; Blithe Spirit Vol. 14 No. 2  June 2004; Haiku Hike project, June 2006 (Haiku Hike (World Walks) part of Crossover UK’s 2006 ‘Renewability’ project (2006); Shamrock Haiku Journal, Irish Haiku Society, Spring 2006; Sketchbook, eJournal  for Eastern & Western Short Forms Nov. 2007; RWP online version September 2009; Land of the Rising Haibun: Setting Japanese Poetry Forms in Prose, 2014: http://us4.campaign-archive1.com/?u=bb3dc7ead7e8fcce474c593af&id=be21868c01 

Anthology Credits: 

Journeys 2015, An Anthology of International Haibun 
ed. Angelee Deodhar ISBN 978-1515359876

Shamrock Haiku Journal: 2007 - 2011 ed. Anatoly Kudryavitsky (December 2011 ISBN-10: 1470938308 ISBN-13: 978-1470938307





all images©Alan Summers 2006-2014
except for the Rooster Moans title image.

Land of the Rising Haibun: Setting Japanese Poetry Forms in Prose

Robert Lowell said "almost the whole problem of writing poetry is to bring it back to what you really feel, and that takes an awful lot of manoeuvring".

The joy of haibun and its sister form "tanka prose" - and perhaps the reason why they are catching the imagination of writers in English - is that they bring an extra opportunity to manoeuvre, juxtaposing the verse against the prose, creating new works that can even surprise ourselves.

Using excerpts, handouts, and examples of haibun, we will delve into the work of famous practitioners such as Matsuo Basho, and from outside Japan, poet/novelist Jack Kerouac and others.

The two prose/poetry forms we'll explore and write are:

Haibun: prose pieces in various styles from prose poetry to journalistic writing, travel writing, diary entries, long fiction through to flash fiction.  These prose narratives usually include one or more haiku inside the body of prose, or can start or conclude the body of prose.

Tanka Prose: a 21st Century narrative, with roots in previous centuries, combining short five-line tanka poems that carry over a thousand years of history behind them. Tanka, grounded in concrete images infused with intimacy, and emotion tempered with implication, suggestion, and nuance, leap in and out of linear narrative with lateral, and dynamic, reverie.

We will cover the history of these two genres as well as concentrate on how to make them 21st narratives both in the haiku and tanka tradition, but also modern short stories and/or memories/memoirs, and literary non-fiction.



Teaching artist Alan Summers resides in Bradford on Avon and is a Japan Times award-winning writer with a Masters Degree in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University. He has studied and written haiku and other Japanese form poetry for twenty years.

He has won awards, been published internationally and translated into 15 languages. Alan helped his American team win Japan Times Best Renga of 2002. He’s a co-editor of five haiku anthologies: Parade of Life: Poems inspired by Japanese Prints; The Poetic Image - Haiku and Photography; Fifty-Seven Damn Good Haiku, Press Here; Four Virtual Haiku Poets; and c.2.2. Themes of Loss of Identity and/or Name. He has been General Secretary of the British Haiku Society and a Foundation Member of the Australian Haiku Society. Alan is currently editor with contemporary haiku magazine Bones, and is working on The Kigo Lab, a project to use the potential of Western haiku seasons for eco-critical writing.

Alan has a haiku pamphlet called The In-Between Season (2012), and a shortverse and contemporary haiku collection called Does Fish-God Know, (2012).

Course weblink:
http://www.poetrycoop.com/poetry-workshops/land-rising-haibun-setting-japanese-poetry-forms-prose